


Tales of the wild

by SpaceMalarkey



Series: Ascension AU [2]
Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Gen, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Magic, Matter of Life and Death, Nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:33:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22098730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceMalarkey/pseuds/SpaceMalarkey
Summary: Short stories of the curious being known as the god of the wilds.Secret santa gift for my lovely Kaden!
Series: Ascension AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590634
Comments: 5
Kudos: 146





	1. The voice in the wind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Khaos_honestly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khaos_honestly/gifts).



> Summer

There was a voice in the wind, Sharan was sure of it. He was tending to the horses behind the main building of the stables when he heard it. Singing. 

The fifth time that week the song in the night winds reached the stables, yet the owner of the voice could not be seen. It was as if the voice was everywhere, in the wind itself, for it grew stronger when the winds passed Sharan’s ears. He wondered where it came from, what it really was. 

The song was wordless, gentle, yet strong. It didn’t feel like the songs of one of the enchanted wizzrobes, who had in recent years began to trap unsuspecting hylians with a siren song. Sharan had heard one before, and he knew how to keep away from the lure, but this voice was different. 

It sang to his very soul. 

He felt his heart soaring with the winds whenever the voice reached his ears. Whoever was singing had to be something else. As soon as the voice started singing, it grew silent, until the winds disappeared to the east, further into Necluda. 

Sharan had wondered who the owner of the voice was ever since he came to the conclusion that it could not be a wizzrobe. He had obsessed over it for the past four days. The voice wouldn’t leave his heart. 

With a sigh, he turned his head and made his way back into the Duelling Peaks stables. His feet dragging on the ground as if they were heavy with sleep. Inside the other members of the stable family were making dinner, setting the table, and saying a prayer to Hylia before helping themselves to some well earned food. Sharan joined them, not sharing their joyous mood. His mind was elsewhere, with the wind and the song. 

The stablemaster, whom Sharan had come to see as a father, placed a strong hand on his shoulder and asked him if he was alright. Sharan could only shrug and give poor excuses in fear of telling the truth. That he had been captivated by the voice on the wind. 

The stablemaster gave him a look, but let him be, instead focusing on the children and telling them stories. 

Sharan let himself drift off to stories of gods, and deities. Of heroes ascending to godhood, their souls embraced by Hylia herself. Of the god of the surrounding wilderness, watching over them all. Sharan let the words carry him into dreams, where the voice on the wind would greet him once more, ever enchanting. 

The song. 

It was close by, just outside of the enormous tent. Sharan slowly sat up, sleep forgotten, and let his feet take him out of the safety of his home, towards the sound of the enchanting tones. 

The voice sounded louder as he stepped outside. It was coming from the back, where the horses were stabled. Where Sharan had been working during the day, when he had heard the song. 

Slowly the stablehand turned the corner, suddenly fearful. He could see soft light coming from the other side of the tarp. The moon was full, shining brilliantly, and the surrounding plains were filled with a strange mist. 

Sharan poked his head out, and he saw something he will never forget. 

There, by the horses, stood a massive presence. Half deer, half hylian, glowing with the might of divinity. Spectral antlers adorned this figure’s head, and its hair was long, tangled gently in the antlers and braided with beads and little bells. They rang softly in the silent night as the figure turned its head to stare at the hylian who dared interrupt its sacred time. Sharan had never seen someone so beautiful. The being in front of him tilted his head, making their scars shine like starlight. Their eyes were a striking blue, kind yet piercing. The humming came from this being, who turned their head back to the horses and continued their petting. The horses seemed perfectly at ease with this massive energy. 

_ “I’m sorry if I frightened you, stablehand,”  _ the humming stopped, replaced by an ethereal voice. It echoed in the surrounding mists. 

“I… Who are you?” Sharan stuttered, his gaze fixated upon this impossible being. 

_ “When asking for someone’s identity, is it not customary to give one’s own name before demanding someone else’s?” _ the being tilted his head and gave Sharan a smile. The sight made him shiver in fear. That was a dangerous smile, promising god knows what if he didn’t thread carefully. The being demanded respect, and Sharan would give it. 

“I am known as Sharan. Forgive my manners, I was a bit… stunned.”   
The being grinned, all danger disappearing from their youthful face. 

_ “You were indeed. Never seen a god before?”  _

A god?   
  
_ “Your kind calls me the god of the wilds, but I do not have a true name. Not anymore.”  _ The god looked a bit somber, but snapped out of it as a horse huffed and demanded their attention. 

_ “Yes, you impatient foal, I’ll pet you too.” _

Sharan couldn’t believe it. How come a god showed themselves to him of all people? He was just a stablehand, no one special. 

“Why are you here?” he asked before he could stop himself. The god didn’t seem offended by his blunder. 

_ “I wanted to say hello to the horses. These are well fed and taken proper care of,” _ the being said, never taking their eyes off the horse who kept bumping its nose to the gods hand.  _ “I am not the god of horses, but these were once wild things. And what was once wild never truly stops being wild.”  _

They turned their head ever so slightly, to grace Sharan with those blue eyes once more. 

_ “You have nothing to fear from me this night, Sharan of the stables. I have not come for you, but for another soul.” _

What could they mean? Was the god here to take someone from the stables? 

The god simply turned their head back to the mare who demanded his attention far more than any other horse. The look in the god’s eyes resembled longing.

_ “It’s been long since we last met, my little foal,”  _ they whispered, pressing their forehead against the horse’s, gently brushing their hands across the short fur.  _ “It’s time for one last ride, little one.”  _

With that, the god’s hand flicked, and the pen was shattered. The mare calmly made her way to freedom, completely at ease with this mighty presence. 

Sharan found those blue eyes once more upon his form. The god graced him with a small smile before riding off into the plains, towards the east with the mare by their side. The moonlight shone, and the god and the mare disappeared into the mists, the echoes of hooves and gentle bells the only thing that remained of them. 

And the sound of a song on the wind. 


	2. Balance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Autumn

Maretta was not someone you could call easily frightened. By all accounts, Maretta was the one to be afraid of, with the way she demanded the space around her like she was the Lord of the region. She was known as a headstrong and rational lady, who would never be late to an appointment, nor would she ever break a promise. Maretta was also born in the month of the hero, making her traits admirable and absolutely noble. 

It wasn’t strange then, what happened to her, what she had witnessed there in the wilderness. 

She had gone to fetch the sheep from their grassing one morning, a smile on her lips and a laugh in the wind. The sheep had travelled further than she had realised, forcing her to trek higher into the mountains than usual. The meager supplies she had taken with her were not sufficient enough for that kind of trip, as she herself soon realised. 

Determined to at least find the trail of the sheep, she continued headstrong up the cliffs, scaling them with no rope to safely climb down again.    
“I would just have to find another route back, with the sheep in tow,” she shrugged, fear overwritten by confidence. 

A confidence she was soon to lose. 

Daylight faded fast, reminding Maretta of how ill prepared she was for this task. She had no food, no shelter, no way to make a fire and ward off the stal monsters that were sure to appear by moonlight. Her only choice now was to find the herd, or find a place to spend the night. The last rays of light dimmed, and darkness was upon her faster than what she could have expected. 

A burning cold settled in her bones as she tried desperately to keep moving, the winds howling and freezing her more and more as they passed her small frame. A storm followed, rain splattering and lightning striking dangerously close. 

In the dark, she could barely see the small hole in the cliffside. A shelter, although small, might just save her. 

She staggered, slowly making her way in the harsh winds with her diminished strength. After what seemed like ages, she had finally managed to tumble into the small cave. There, she lay still, unable to move save for her weak shivering. 

Something felt wrong. 

Maretta could no longer feel her limbs, the small shelter she had found was not sufficient enough to hold off the harsh winds and the late autumn frost the night would bring. She could barely see anything, the darkness filling every corner of the world as heavy clouds covered the moon and the stars.

There she stayed, slowly watching the world as her life seemed to seep from her. The clouds parted, gracing her with the early morning light from a sun that had not yet risen, and stars twinkling gently in the pink sky.    
And then, something more. 

A green mist surrounded the mountain, gently covering everything in its soft light. The echoing sound of heavy hooves reached Maretta’s ears, and soon the creature came into view. Light came off them in a strange way, softly intensifying and disappearing, only to then intensify once more. The creature had the lower body of a deer, with a slight glow to it, and the upper body of a hylian with long, fair hair and antlers on his head. Their hair hung off the antlers gracefully, some of it braided with beads and small bells that chimed gently with each step. The being had soft red undertones to their coloring, all except their eyes, which were a piercing blue. 

The creature turned its head to meet Maretta’s eyes, slowly moving closer to her. 

She could no longer speak, no longer move away in fear. Only feel the last dread of someone whose soul was about to leave their body forever. 

The creature slowly gathered her numb body in its arms, and carried her to the middle of the plains. Gently they laid her down, and folded their legs to sit next to her frozen soon to be corpse. 

Then it spoke, and Maretta no longer felt any fear. Only peace, and calm. 

_ “Balance in all things, Maretta of Hateno. Your life as the honorable sheepherder has ended, and in its end, there is a new beginning. Forever a cycle, never ending.”  _

She had one last thing to do. Her last action as a hylian was to gaze upon this creature, this god, and witness her rebirth. 

The god held out their hands, gently touching her chest. Their blue gaze never leaving Maretta’s brown. Slowly the once red coloring of the god turned to the warm light of life itself. The god stood, embodying the magic of light taken from the dying hylian woman at their feet. They lifted their hands, staring at the open palms. 

_ “Live again as something new, and die once again. Forever a cycle, forever balance. Where there is death, there is life.”  _

The light manifested, slowly turning into a white flame that shone so brightly that the people of Hateno could see it as they opened their windows to let the morning sun in. 

_ “Go now, and await your new form,” _ the god told the flame, watching as it flickered and moved out of their hands, and into the horizon. 

The villagers searched for a week before they found Maretta’s frozen body. In the middle of the plains on top of the mountains, surrounded by a ring of dead flowers, they found what they were searching for. 

With great grief, they brought her home to the village, where they held a funeral pyre. As the flames reached their highest intensity, another flame in another place shone across the skies. As the last of Maretta of Hateno’s body burned to ashes and scattered in the winds, a fox gave birth to a single cub, whose eyes shone with a white flame. 


	3. Benevolent guide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winter

She had definitely taken a wrong turn somewhere. Leone had grown up in her father’s hunting cottage deep in the forest, yet she knew nothing of navigating mountains. Woods and plains she could manage just fine, never once losing her trail, or her sense of direction. But cliffs, rocks, and endless white was another matter. While she was well prepared for the cold winter, she was not prepared to get lost in the heavy snowfall. She could barely see in front of her, terrified she would walk off the edge by accident. Her progress across whatever rocky surface lay beneath the snow she was currently struggling through, was slow. 

Night was closing in, the days were becoming shorter as winter progressed. Leone looked for shelter, but the curtain of white made that task near impossible.    
  
Leone was experienced and clever, having lived in the wilds her whole life. She knew, that were you to lose one sense, you would have to rely on others. So she stopped where she was, took a deep breath, and calmed her nerves. She took in what information her senses could give her. The sky was darkening, turning the white snow a darker grey without the light of the sun. The falling snow not only blinded her sight, but also covered everything around her in a near soundless blanket. This used to comfort her, when living in the woods. 

Now it only caused her to slowly lose hope. 

Leone took another deep breath, and was pleased to smell something different in the air. Smoke. 

Someone was nearby, someone with a fire. 

Leone shook the snow out of her hair, and began walking. She knew not the destination, but followed her nose with careful steps, testing the ground under her feet. The smell of a fire grew stronger, and after a long while of careful walking, she came upon a structure she had never seen before. Night was almost upon her, making her sight near useless, but she could barely see what almost looked like a tent, like the ones the stables had. 

It was shaped like a cone, with a hole at the top where she guessed the smoke came from. Whatever fire it came from was gently teasing her through tiny holes in the tent’s walls. 

“Hello?” she called to whomever was inside. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but could I have a place by your fire tonight?” 

She heard rustling from inside, and soon a youthful face poked out of the walls of the tent. He was a young Hylian, maybe in his late teens, long pale hair hanging off him in what she assumed would be casual wear. He had a sharp blue gaze. 

“Hello,” he greeted with a smile. “It’s coming down something fierce tonight. Please come in and share my fire.” 

Leone bowed gratefully before following the stranger into his tent, noticing that the walls of the tent were made from broken branches of the trees in the area. 

The inside of the tent was graciously warm, thanks to the sizable fire in the middle. It was more spacious than she first believed. 

The smell of stew hit her nostrils and filled her stomach with a desire to eat her fill and never go back to her old life. The stranger had moved back to the fire where he stirred the stew in wide circles.

“What brings you to the mountains?” he asked, never looking away from his task. Completely trusting her despite never having met her before. 

“Travelling,” she replied honestly, shivering and trying to regain warmth in her limbs. “Life back in the woods were boring, so I wanted to travel the world and bring home stories.” 

That caught the boy’s attention. 

“Stories?” he asked, eyes filling with curiosity. He motioned to the seat across from the fire, and waited patiently as Leone took her seat. 

“Do you have any experience travelling through snow?” 

Leone searched his face, finding no ill will, and answered him just as honestly as she had last. “I come from the forest, and can navigate it in my sleep. The mountains are new territory for me.” 

The boy smiled, and clapped his hands together. 

“If I teach you how to survive in the mountains, would you tell me some of your stories in return?” 

An odd request, but a fair exchange of information. One that Leone agreed to readily. 

The boy nodded, pleased with this deal, and handed her a bowl of stew. As she ate, he told her what to look for when traversing the cliffs. How to identify places where she could dig for food, what to eat, how to dig a snow shelter, and how to create a tent like the one they were now seated in. He taught her how to keep warm in even the worst of storms, and how to cross glaciers safely. 

By the time he was finished, she had eaten three bowls of stew. It was high time she paid him back with stories of her own. 

She told him of her childhood, of the ways of the woods, and how she and her father hunted in order to survive, living off the land completely. She told him of the trail she had taken when visiting the fairy fountains, despite never being able to call on one of the great beings she knew was there. How she left offerings of rupees despite never being allowed to gaze upon their magnificent forms. How she had decided to leave the comfort of home, seeking new thrills. Stories of the people she met along the way, and how they lived their lives. 

When she started yawning, the boy smiled and thanked her graciously. 

“It’s not that interesting of a life,” Leone muttered, as she lay down on her side, resting comfortably on her bedroll. 

“It was plenty interesting,” the boy replied from his own chosen spot. “It’s not often I get to speak with travellers such as yourself. It’s intriguing to hear of your opinions of the world.” 

Leone could feel exhaustion overtake her, and she yawned once more. 

“I’m happy to hear you found it enjoyable” she mumbled, voice heavy with sleep. “I was afraid it wouldn’t be... enough to repay you.”

The last thing she heard before slipping into the realm of sleep was a small chuckle, and a soothing voice. 

_ “It was more than enough, Leone of the Woods.”  _

Leone woke to light shining through the branches that made up the tent. The fire had died down to embers, still warm enough to keep the cold away from her, but not strong enough to warm the entire space like the night before. Groggily she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and stretching her limbs with a satisfaction only a cat could know. Something wasn't right. Something had changed. 

She turned to find the tent completely empty, almost as if no one had been there but her. No sign of the boy anywhere. Leone hastily got up as she remembered his last words to her the night before. 

She never told him her name. 

With a new urgency, she opened the tent, trying to locate the stranger in case he was a bandit, or a thief. Yet none of her things were taken in the night. The mountain was completely different from the one she had travelled through the night before. Everything was silent, save for the song of birds in the nearby trees. The sky was clear, and the sun shone brilliantly, making the snow shimmer with untouched beauty. The air was crisp and served to wake her fully, as she tried to find any sign of where the boy had gone. She could see his footprints leading away to the east. Leone figured she may as well follow him. Maybe he was on his way to the nearest settlement. 

She gathered her things and set off after the boy, until she reached a new clearing. Until the footprints of a hylian teenager turned bigger. Until footprints from two legs turned to four, and Leone knew who she had truly met in the night. 

She had set out on this journey to gather new stories to tell. 

The tale of how she met a story loving god and learned from him in exchange for honesty would be her best yet. 


End file.
